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Irithiel
Fiefdom of Irithiel, Great City of the Whispering Wind Brief History: In the days, so old that even mountains from those times crumbled and perished, a mighty Elven empire ruled over the world. It's denizens were knowledgeable in many crafts, but above all else was the art of magic, in which they achieved pretty much everything mortal can dream of. Archtects erected magnificent mansions commanding materials to shape into what their imagination has produced, tireless golems driven by bound spirits of nature to do heavy manual work, farmers produced the weather perfect for their crops. World lied at their feet, conquered and subjugated, bound to shape itself according to their mages' will. Every external threat was crushed so effortlessly that rulers of the Empire soon diverted their attention from pesky critters left in their shadows. But with supremacy, came pride. And with pride came vanity. Elves denounced the gods, proclaiming themselves rightful rulers of this World - and gods haven't found the courage or means to answer. Or so it appeared. Intrigue and murder has become common, as noble houses of purest sorcerorous bloodlines fought for power. After the death of one particularly insane Emperor, whose name has been erased from all scripts, highly likely by the hands of his own son, council of seven great archmages rose to power, ensuring that no individual will ever be trusted with absolute power. The lawful procedure for replacing council members, however, hadn't been invented, which left a lot of room for plotting and backstabbing. Nevertheless, Rule of Seven was a golden age, their subject coudn't even think about worrying about satisfying basic needs and were mostly busy inventing increasingly more debased way to kill their spare time. But another age has arrived. Age of Humans. United by their philosophies, heroic past and unquenchable desire to claim their own destiny, tribes of former primitives built their states and developed a technology, may be less sophisticated than arcane constructs of Elves, but nevertheless efficient. Conflict has become inevitable, and the only way to resolve is was war. So, the war erupted. Armies of human soldiers marched against golden paradise Elvish cities. At first, defenders didn't take them seriously, only to be cut down in the most irrespective manner. Soon, things have become worrying for rulers of the Empire - and the arcane might was unleashed on the marching masses of humanity. Storms raged over the heads of soldiers, turning soil under their feet into mud, tornadoes ripping their ranks apart, bitter chill snapping the life out of everyone who slept too far from a fireplace.. nevertheless, men and women advanced and claimed victory after victory, leaving thousands of their own kin bodies', but unbreakable in spirit. And soon, the battle had been taken to the capital, most magnificent city of Elves, City of the Whispering Wind, Irithiel. By that point, the darkest knowledge hoarded by nigh-immortal sorcerors was employed in desperate attempts to halt humans' advance. But for every dozen slaughtered by impregnable arcane construct, a hundred rouse, and for every company ripped apart by a raging daemon, a legion took their place. The fall of the city has become imminent... Nothing could have saved Irithiel at this point. Nothing short of wonder, defying the laws of the Universe itself. And so Seven Sorceror Lords called their masterpiece into life. A spell which hadn't been before and will not be seen again shattered the time and space itself, while backlash from the spell devastated the besieging army, leveled cities hundreds miles apart and shook whole continents. Whole city disappeared from the world, put into a terrible non-dimension where space warped itself in unpredictable ways, and laws of time appeared to be of little importance. Over the time, whole districts fell to unspeakable horrors. Streets and terraces twisted and mixed, resulting in a bizzare combinations, which were unthinkable in the existence, but seemed to be natural for this non-existence. Magic itself, which was probably more important to the city's denizens than water, was twisted and warped too. What produced accurate and predictable results in the World, here was chaotic and unreliable. Even most powerful of mages sometimes transformed themselves into trees while trying to light the candles. Which led to the decline of magocracy and put rule of nouble houses to question. People from different backgrounds were given opportunity to rise to the top of command chain, of course, not without great effort, since even without their arcane might old nobility retained incredible power. While certain measures have been found to make magic more practical, glory of the old Empire was forgotten, as Irethi fought to survival against dwellers of the Void, ever creeping from outside into a cyclopic cityscape. At last, Irithiel has returned to the realspace... Changed and devastated, but unbroken in spirit. Appearance and heraldry Irithiel is a cyclopic city, spanning over numerous square miles and rising high into the air, it's towers piercing the sky and terraces which could hardly be seen from the sea level. Architecture, as one would expect from the Fine Folk, employs a lot of sophisticated, curvy, delicate parts, nevertheless practical enough to withstand the onslaught of time which can reduce mountains to dust. Many of the lower quarters have fallen into disrepair, others were twisted into forms which collapsed the moment city returned to reality. The only part which remained stable is the center of the city, where the Palace of the Council stands. Seven archways support the large, but elegant building, with seven wide highways coming from the giant square in the middle. Over the square, a sphere made of pure diamond is hung by invisible forces - a place for Council meeting, impregnable from outside. During the Exile, it appeared to be stabilizing area around it in some strange way - magic was still working in a predictable way around, artifacts of the past can still be found there, including dreaded Arcanomatons - towering animated suits of armor, wielding enormous glaives and all but invincible to swords, arrows or even gunpowder cannons. It were those wonderful constructs who repelled the invaders, while Sorceror Lords were preparing the ritual. Around it, dozens of spires rise, elegant bridges connecting them to each other. In some of them, descendants of old nobility still dwell, while others have been relegated to be warehouses, barracks or laboratories. These spires along with central square form core of the city. As one walks away, mansions and spires give way to communal dwellings, inns, workshops and brothels, and if one is careless he might walk into abandoned parts, where some unspoken creatures still crawl in the night. Upon the Return, however, large-scale works have begun to rebuild the city, and sound of mallets, saws and chisels can be heard through the city. Beyond the crumbling city walls, huts and fields of farmers and hunters lie, and roads to the newly established outposts are being constructed. Considering symbolism and heraldry, Irethi still maintain their old flag - seven stars dancing around the Edelweiss. Upon the Return, however, it's slowly being phased out in favor of a new symbol - silver pheonix rising from the flame on black background (my artist skills are non-existent, unfortunately), representing their own fate. In addition to that, each noble house and newly organized Guild Houses maintain their own coats of arms and symbol systems. Government City of Irithiel and it's domain is ruled by the Council of Seven. While original members have all perished - some due to natural reasons, some fell to political assassinations, but nobody in today's Irithiel remembers those Sorceror Lords who pulled the city out of reality. As a result of magocracy crumbling, people from different backgrounds managed to get their way even into the highest position - but without at least theoretical understanding of magic, one cannot hope to understand people of Irithiel, so even today's Council members are all sorcerors, even if not all of them devoted their life to the study of Arcane. Here is the description of High Chancellors: Archmage Thaeddis of the Black Saphire Thaeddis is the oldest and, as everybody will claim, the most powerful among the High Council. His lifespan is incredibly long, even for an elf - millenias have passed before his gaze. Today, he appears as withered husk, whose skin remind of a burnt charcoal, grey hair looking like spider's web and only two living, deep-seated eyes scrutinize the world as sharply as they always did - hence his nickname. In council meeting, he rarely speaks, but whenever he does, it's usually something of incredible importance - and his wisdom kept council from many would-be tragic decisions. Lately he often voiced in support of the Gael'Drin, which have surprised a lot of the old nobility. Lady Stella of the Whispering Wind The last descendant of the bloodline which founded the city, Lady Stella seems to be dedicating most of her time to balls, strolling on the streets among countless courtiers and fashion rather than council meetings and policing. Nevertheless, foolish would be the one who thought she's incompetent - Stella is an adept illusionist and a mastermind schemer. In political circles, she is often named as the leader of opposition to Gael'Drin reformation, but whether it's true or not nobody can tell. Tued'hann First of non-aristocrats to make his way to the seat of power, Tued'Hann have been serving as a captian of city guard before, tasked with repelling outlandish invaders and keeping the denizens from descending into the madness and debauchery. His stature reminds that of a goliath - sword from which he never parts an ordinary human or an elf would hardly even manage to lift. In council meeting, he often proposes harsh and cruel judgment, which often leads to heated debates. He looks at the Gael'Drin with the uttermost disdain, which led to his unlikely alliance with Lady Stella Lord Aeren'Tar of Never-Quenching Fire Aeren'Tar is the lord of the noble house which used to hold grasp on most of city's workshops and forges, providing essential goods once magic ceased to be the most reliable instrument. Unlike Lady Stella, he is not last in his bloodline, which raises a lot of questions, since his lesser kin plot to undermine him every moment. So far, he has demonstrated a clear mind, which often leads him to supporting proposed Garl'Drin changes, even if his own power and title is at stake. While not in council meeting, he often supervises works of those artisans who still remain loyal to the house, and it's not uncommon to see Aeren'Tar wield a hammer himself. Zaelin of a Fragrant Rose Lady Zaelin hold the power over the house dedicated to the production of finest brews in the city, ranging from perfume and cosmetics to elixirs and poisons. She got into the position of power after a suspicious death of her predecessor, which creates an air of uneasiness when she's present in the council room. So far, lady Zaelin didn't show any bias towards either Gael'Drin or Stella, usually trying to keep herself from deciding which side to support by raising countless side-topics. Compared to the rather frivolous Stella, she often appears like a spider seated next to a bird: always concentrated, with brooding look on her beautiful face and rarely seen in public. Wwyneld the Librarian Reclusive and silent, Wwyneld is a guardian of the most valuable vault of the city - it's ancient library, presenting the knowledge of the old times. He's never been seen outside, preferring to use ancient transgression system to move between the library and council meeting room. Subjects who help him to maintain the library are constructs not unlike Arcanomotons, but less inclined towards violence and destruction. Nevertheless, any intruder would swiftly find his demise among those sacred halls, though Wwyneld turned the library into a deadly maze only the Librarian himself fully knows. Many are questioning his sanity, however, foolish be the one who will throw such accusation in his face. In the council meetings, he's reluctant to support any change, and even then Thaeddis himself, who appears to be the only person for whom Wwyneld holds something resembling respect, sides with Gael'Drin, Librarian insists on keeping the old ways. Gael'Drin Last but not least, the youngest member of the Council and the one who is credited by creating the most radical renovation of the Irithiel. Like a Tued'hann, he came from a military background, discerning himself from the masses by the courage and strength. However, it's not martial might neither arcane power which brought him to the position of power, but rather the mind of a brilliant analyst and personality of an inspiring leader. Gael'Drin advocates for an unbiased, careful approach, but never hesitates to propose change he finds beneficial. He's the one who proposed to abolish magocracy de jure, replacing old noble Houses with congregations of skilled artists, warriors, sages and craftsmen, acquiring power and wealth by their merit, not by birthright and intrigue. He's also the one which is seen the most outside of the central spire, leading numerous projects dedicated to bring the change he imagines into life. Gael'Drin is often named de facto leader of the council, the spirit which propels the nation forward. However, numerous are those in whom this new course rises concerns... Religion People of old Empire usually looked at religious practices of others with uttermost disdain, considering themselves rightful masters of the world and certainly unwilling to share their dominion with capricious divine entities. While their terrible defeat motivated elves of Irithiel to reconsider their arrogance and contempt for other races, timeless existence in the realm which lays beyond gaze of divinities doesn't reinforce piety. Today's Irethi will mostly likely adopt neutral stance on any given religion, making notes about it as a local curiosity, on par with cuisine, architecture and fighting traditions. However, there is a certain doctrine which appears to be popular among denizens of City of the Whispering Wind, despite the fact that it's never been dogmatized. Said doctrine, in it's countless versions, revolves around the concept of will and resolve - qualities which caused the downfall of the old Empire - standing against chaotic, random and careless forces of the Universe. Every Irethi is encouraged to hone his skills in attempt to reduce the influence of chaos on the world and, ideally, make it predictable and controllable once again. Certain anonymous philosopher, however, recently published a book speculating that absolute order would be just as baneful for living as absolute chaos is, and this can certainly cause a new round of debate. Recent changes New Calender had been adopted shortly after reappearance Time of the returning to the realspace is a Day Zero, so dates are usually marked as P.X (Past Exile). Dates before the downfall of the Old Empire are usually referred to as O.E, while only reliable time scale during the Exile is a massive hourglass in the library, currently unavailable to anyone but Wwyneld. May be after his death historicians will be able to establish a certain timeline for events which happened during Exile. P.X time uses moon cycles, as appropriate instruments for astronomy haven't been reassembled yet. Gael'Drin pushes for reformation of governance system, replacing old Noble Houses with Guild Houses - conglomerates of artisans, warriors, sorcerors, traders and whatever other crafts might prove themselves to be useful for Irithiel. However, his efforts meet serious opposition - so far he was only able to persuade mages - mostly due to the Thaeddis' support - to organize into House of Fine Arts and abolishing old bloodline privilege, as well as practices of in-breeding among powerful sorceror clans. Zaelin, Wwyneld, Tued'hann and Stella established a formidable block to any further advances in that direction whihc Gael'Drin desperately tries to overcome. Chancellors' succession. Always a hot topic among denizens of the city. So far, there was no legal system established for that - usually, the chancellor who's approaching venerable age or "willingly" stepping down from his position names a successor - individual from his inner circle to take his seat. Council then needs to approve the candidate unanimously, or, if there is no will from a former councilor, find a suitable replacement (those cases usually cause a prolongated political crisis, since every member tries to push his subject into a seat, effectively gaining control of two). Ideas float around that, once Guild Houses fully replace old aristocracy, a legislation covering the assembling of council will be written Warfare City of Whispering Wind doesn't really have a standing army. It's armed forces are composed of City Guard, elves who are responsible of upholding the order in City as well as repelling outlandish invaders, and small host of Arcanomatons guarding the Council Palace. Guardsmen are typically armed with shields and spears, carrying thrusting swords or long daggers for close quarters and wearing light or no armor - enemies they used face usually don't mind an inch of steel between them and their prey's flesh, so keeping them at distance is more important than trying to mitigate the damage. Guardsmen are trained to operate in small teams, covering each other in a fight. Upon arrival in the realspace, Council is concerned about raising an actual army, but so far there are more pressing duties. So far, Warlocks took place of the armed force - being able to use their power to full extent once again, they can repel most of natural threats and desperate criminals trying to meddle with city affairs. Automatons are an artifact of the past, secret of their creation long forgotten. Only those who were close to the Diamond Dome in the Council Palace remain functional. They are tall (between twice and thrice as tall as an average man) animated suits of bronze armor, covered in malefic inscriptions. Unlike lesser constructs which are often possessed by nature spirits, arcanomaton is driven only by the will of his master and sophisticated sorcery employed in it's construction. They don't feel fear, pain and don't have any vulnerable intensities, making them nigh unstoppable with any mortal weaponry, and by the virtue of being soulless constructs are unaffected by most common magic. Arcanomotons come with different armaments, but most common is a massive polearm, allowing constructs to sweep dozen opponents in a single slash. Magic Most revered of all arts and crafts in the City of the Whispering Wind once, and most damaged by an Exile. Magic is welcome in all forms, believed to be a key which opens way to secrets of the universe. While Irethi are uncommonly open-minded when it comes to different traditions and schools, willing to absorb the arcane knowledge even in it's most bizzare or dangerous forms, there are certain traditions which were so common among the sorcerors of Old Empire that even today their descendants are following those path: Elemental attunement Almost intuitive for any practitioner, but nevertheless useful trick. Through mediation, inhaling certain chemical compounds or careful observation and doing mathematical routines, a sorceror aligns his soul with surrounding environment, gaining abilities to sense and manipulate it by sheer force of will. It's highly unlikely to find two different warlocks who do it the same way, some developing supernatural senses, capable of detecting precious gems and metals deep beneath their feet, or ensuring that rain falls exactly when and where it's needed, while others employ it a violent way, cutting breath of their enemies or melting their weapons and armor, searing the bodies of those who unfortunately drew the Warlock's attention Power Foci Crucial for most of the Old Empire accomplishments, those came in different forms and shapes, but their purpose was the same: capacitors and conduits for sorceror's power. Contrary to the popular belief, those didn't make one a better mage, but merely allowed to store some energy for later re-use without need to hold it by themselves. Smallest ones come in form of rings and amulets, increasing the might of one's spells. More sophisticated foci required large towers built to support them, and allowed whole congregation of mages to concentrate their power on a single act, hence their nickname. It's simultaneous shattering of all those massive foci, which were pumped with power for days before, what allowed original Council of Seven to perform their great accomplishment. Unfortunately, their making involved a certain metal, hold for junk by ignorant fools, alchemically altered and dipped in blood of sapient being. With loss of supply of said metal, art of creating foci was lost too. Nevertheless, it's carefully documented, alchemists and miners roam the wilderness day and night, trying to find a substitute. Spiritbinding Another accomplishment iconic to the Old Empire. Spirits are numerous, both in the World, Underworld and Outer planes. Lesser ones are hardly anything but beasts of the Empyrean, dangerous but easily subdued and bound while more powerful ones, like Daemons or Elemental Princes, are sentient and capable of tremendous feats - binding of those requires forward planning, cunning and good amount of luck. Nevertheless, results are worth it. Spirits propel forward golems which are doing heavy labour, intelligent ones were often bound in war constructs, serving as soldiers of the empire. Lesser ones were often entrapped in trinkets, weapons and other useful items, granting them some uncommon properties. Unfortunately, the realm of madness in which Irithiel spent it's Exile dealt a huge blow to that practice. While always prone to acting up, bound spirits soon lost their mind completely and went on a rampage, which required deploy of Arcanomotons to be stopped. Local spirits, while numerous, appeared to have only one desire: wanton destruction, and after a good dozen of horribly failed experiments were deemed untamable. So, the practice was lost.Category:NationCategory:Secret War